The Complete Book of One Hundred Women - 9

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"Go away," upon hearing this, Miss Wenjun pouted,
"How slender the bamboo pole, how graceful the fish tail!
A man values integrity, what use are money and weapons?"
"Sister, if that's not what you mean, if you mean that I'll listen to you no matter what,"
"Alas," the beauty drank another cup, put down the empty cup, her tearful eyes gazing out the window, her hand caressing the zither, she said with deep emotion,
"Spring flowers vie in fragrance, five colors surpass white, the zither is still in the imperial court, but new sounds replace the old. The Jin River has mandarin ducks, the Han Palace has water, those things are intimate, alas, the people of the world, blinded by lust and unaware."
"Thank you for your teachings, sister, I will never forget them," Sima moved the zither, flattering, "If you want to hear me play, I'll play a tune now!"
"Forget it," Miss Wenjun plucked a string, and it snapped:
"The red string breaks, the bright mirror breaks. The morning dew is sparse, the beautiful face fades. The white-haired lament, the sorrow of parting."
"Sister, you..." Sima stared blankly at the broken string. Wenjun sighed and patted Sima's shoulder as an elder:
"Alas, eat well and don't think of me. The Jin River flows on, a final farewell to you!"
With that, Miss Wenjun turned and walked out of the restaurant. Sima threw down his zither and hurriedly followed. Wang stood at the door, coldly watching Sima: "Idol, why do you do this? Are all the women in the world dead? Can't you live without her?"
"What do you know!" Xiangru ignored Wang. Seeing Wenjun jump onto the carriage, he raised his whip. Sima strode forward and leaped onto it. Wenjun said calmly: "What are you doing up here? Do you know where I'm going?"
Xiangru sat side by side with Wenjun: "Sister, wherever you go, I will always follow you!"
A poem about white hair moved the romantic scholar, making Sima Xiangru devoted to Wenjun until his death, becoming a timeless tale. Sima Xiangru passed away before Wenjun. When the coffin lid of Sima Xiangru was closed, Wenjun, in remembrance of her husband and also in her own final words, wrote: "
Alas, my lord, you were a learned scholar; from a young age, you loved learning and mastered many books. Your swordsmanship was unparalleled, your intelligence renowned; you admired the sages of the past, and changed your name to Xiangru. In your desolate state, you traveled far and wide, composing poems like those of Zixu; you fulfilled your ambitions, riding in a high carriage drawn by four horses. I remember our first love, your graceful and dignified demeanor; I admired your talent and virtue, and our hearts were delighted by the music. I entrust you to me as my wife, not ashamed to serve as your attendant; our life was short, and fate was difficult to save. Long nights I think of you, my shadow alone; I walk in the courtyard, the frost-covered grass withered. The wild geese cry mournfully, how can I find peace! I look up to the heavens and sigh, my heart heavy with sorrow; I lament this plight, who can bear to hear my cries? I would rather die in the underworld than not be able to find peace.
" The *Fupu Shi* says: "
A wife is one who is equal, whether in virtue, talent, or appearance; there must be one that matches her to be considered equal." If Sima Xiangru had not met Zhuo Wenjun, the strings of his zither would have been rendered useless; and if Wenjun had not met Xiangru, her beautiful face would have been forgotten by posterity. Husband and wife, forever united. Their unrestrained and romantic nature is beyond reproach! Even today, the Shandong region was called Xiangru County during the Tang Dynasty; and there is still a shrine to Xiangru. Such are the descendants of Xiangru! How could those who were once considered unrestrained and romantic be considered worthy of such praise?
Wenjun was indeed unrestrained and romantic. A woman who is not chivalrous is not heroic; a chivalrous woman who is not unrestrained and romantic is not heroic; a woman who is unrestrained and romantic is not beautiful and heroic; a woman who is beautiful and unrestrained, and whose eloped partner is not like Xiangru, is also not heroic; a woman who eloped with Xiangru and whose home is not destitute is also not heroic; a woman who is destitute and who does not personally tend the stove and wash dishes in the market is also not heroic; a woman who personally tends the stove, and who does not have a hundred servants, a million coins, a prefect welcoming her outside the city, a county magistrate carrying a crossbow, and wealthy people like Zhuo Wangsun and Linqiong bowing before her, is also not heroic; this is what is meant by unrestrained and romantic. Wenqun died for Xiangru, and Xiangru also died for Wenjun; a zither and a eulogy are enough for a thousand years. The

poem "Qing Ping Yue

" from the "Hundred Women's Records"
(Record 18) describes a woman who died for her husband, impoverished and without fortune, lowly and without wealth. She asks where she can find happiness, and asks the heavens and the earth. Hua Ni starved herself to death, and in return, a memorial arch was erected for her. A memorial archway stood tall in the village, earning her father's official robes. The first time, her drunken husband, in a drunken frenzy, ejaculated blood-stained semen . He loved wine more than anything in this life, never letting it out of his hand from morning till night. He'd down a cup with gusto, two bowls in a row, his spirits soaring. They'd exchange toasts, play drinking games, and then engage in a wild brawl. Suddenly, he'd wet himself, gushing out a torrent of urine. Huani never imagined she'd marry a husband so addicted to alcohol, known throughout the surrounding villages as a "drunkard." On their wedding day, the groom, adorned in red and flowers, drank with the guests. Before the banquet was even finished, before the guests had finished enjoying themselves, her drunken husband collapsed, carried upside down into the bridal chamber, and tossed onto the hot earthen bed. Huani peeked under the red veil and saw the groom lying motionless, face up on the bed, reeking of alcohol, soon followed by thunderous snoring. As the banquet continued, the stove in the kitchen burned incessantly, and the temperature of the earthen bed connected to the bridal chamber rose higher and higher. Gradually, the bride smelled a pungent, fishy odor. Hua Ni exclaimed in alarm, "Oh no, my husband is going to burn!" The bride couldn't wait for the groom to lift the veil. She lifted it aside herself, hurriedly climbed to her drunken husband's side, grabbed his body, and shook him frantically: "Wake up! Change your position before you sleep. Your back is going to burn!" The drunkard remained motionless, as if dead. Hua Ni had no choice but to push him away forcefully. She felt that although the groom was large, he was extremely light: this guy, so young, had his body burned to a crisp by the strong alcohol! Hua Ni was not exaggerating. Those who drink heavily for years invariably end up emaciated and as light as a stick. If they continue to drink without restraint, their bodies will slowly atrophy, which is commonly known as rickets. With a slight effort, the bride easily flipped the drunkard over. A wave of hot air hit Hua Ni's face. Ignoring her initial shyness at the unfamiliarity, the bride immediately began to undress her drunkard husband. In the candlelight, his back, tanned from the prolonged heat of the heated kang (a traditional heated brick bed), was a deep, dark red. If Hua Ni hadn't noticed in time and changed his position, the drunken groom wouldn't have become a bride on their wedding night; instead, he would have been roasted alive by the kang. "What's going on?" Huani's palm suddenly touched something salty and damp. Looking closer, she saw that her alcoholic husband had actually wet his pants. "Husband," the bride said, holding her husband's wet, smelly pants, a sense of foreboding washing over her, "if you keep drinking like this, even if you don't die, you'll become a paralyzed corpse. After your life is over, you'll slowly die!" The bride's deduction wasn't without basis. Huani's cousin was also a notorious alcoholic. He had been incontinent for several years and was only just beginning to recover at thirty. He was already bedridden and his body was withering away. As her aunt said, "Once he runs out of energy, everything will be fine!" "I'm thirsty!" After stripping the drunkard naked and tucking him in, Huani was about to go to sleep when he suddenly cried out, "I'm thirsty! Water! Water! I want water!" "Coming, coming!" Huani hurriedly got off the kang (heated brick bed), scooped up a ladle of cold water, and handed it to the drunkard. His eyes, red and swollen from drinking, took the large wooden ladle with both hands, opened his mouth wide, and gulped it down like a cow drinking. "Cough, cough, cough," perhaps from drinking too quickly, or perhaps from drinking too much too forcefully, the drunkard suddenly coughed violently, then pushed away the ladle and spat out a mouthful of sticky phlegm: "Ah, I'm dying of thirst! My throat is so tight and salty!" "Oh dear!" Huani exclaimed, looking at the phlegm on the ground: "Husband, you've drunk yourself sick! There's blood in your phlegm!"

"It's alright," the groom wiped the water droplets from his lips and laughed dismissively, "It's nothing serious, just an old problem. It flares up when I drink too much. I'll be fine after a few days of stopping!" With that, the alcoholic husband gave his bride a knowing, lewd grin and pulled Huani into the bed.
Huani giggled, "Look at you, all skin and bones, I never expected you to have so much strength!"
"Hehe," the alcoholic husband finally sobered up a bit, grinning as he embraced his bride, "Darling, although I look skinny and weak, I'm no less strong than anyone else, especially in this area," he said, brazenly slipping his hand between Huani's legs, "Fat pigs are fools, skinny horses are good breeds. I may be thin, but I'm very capable, darling, do you believe me?"
"Hehe," Huani also took the opportunity to grasp the alcoholic husband's penis, "After drinking so much, are you still up for it?"
"I," the alcoholic husband said confidently, slamming Huani down on his back and flipping her onto his bride, "You don't know, the more I drink, the more energized I become!"
Although he was so drunk he was cramping and coughing up blood, after the wedding, the alcoholic husband not only didn't stop drinking for a few days, but instead intensified his drinking, drinking every day and at every meal. Every morning, he would start drinking as soon as he opened his eyes. The newlywed Huani couldn't persuade him too much, so she could only plead with her mother-in-law, "My husband drinks too much. If this continues, he'll ruin his health!"
"Sigh," the mother-in-law shrugged, looking helpless.
“My dear daughter-in-law, your mother-in-law must have done something bad in her past life to accumulate such a karmic debt. I must have owed him something in my past life to give birth to this troublesome child. When he was four years old, his aunt got married, and I took him to the wedding. At the banquet, all the aunts and uncles were teasing him, taking turns to peck and tease him. As a result, they got my son drunk. Guess what? When we got home, my son cried and screamed, rolling around on the earthen bed. It was only with great difficulty that we managed to coax him to sleep.”
"The next day when he woke up, he still wanted to drink that horse urine. If I didn't give it to him, he would cry, preferring to forgo breast milk rather than drink that horse urine. Sigh, I was at my wit's end, so I got a bottle, diluted it with water, and coaxed him. From then on, that was it—he became a heavy drinker at such a young age. I tried to discipline him, not giving him alcohol, but it didn't work. This kid, without alcohol for a day, was like an opium addict without opium, craving it so much he would tear his clothes, pull his hair, overturn tables, smash bowls, and even…"
At this point, the old woman's face… With a troubled expression, the mother-in-law said, "Daughter-in-law, don't laugh at me, but this unfilial son, when pushed too far, he acts like a madman, even... even... he's punching and kicking me right in front of me, practically trying to beat his own mother! Good heavens, daughter-in-law, tell me, isn't this the karmic retribution from a past life? I've raised a beast! Judging by his posture, if I don't let him drink, his fists really will land on my face. His father died young, and I, a mere woman, can't control him. What can I do? Alas," the mother-in-law sighed deeply.
"This bastard, let him drink however he wants, I don't care anymore, I can't control him, I'm completely at my wit's end!"
"Sigh—" After hearing her mother-in-law's story, Huani was filled with regret and let out a long sigh. She muttered to herself, "How did Father arrange this marriage for his daughter! He only listened to the matchmaker's word and didn't even ask anyone to do some proper research before so hastily marrying his daughter off to a drunkard. How will she live in the future?"
Since he had already become a drunkard, he naturally possessed the skills of a professional drinker. A qualified drunkard doesn't need any decent side dishes: a cucumber, a dozen or so spiced peanuts, and half a piece of tofu are enough to finish a large bowl of baijiu. When the cold winter comes, everything is sparse, and the dishes on the table are few and far between, but a professional drunkard doesn't care about these things at all. A few hard, cold cabbage leaves are enough to satisfy him for a hearty drink.
Huani's alcoholic husband's best-documented record is: he drank a pound of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) on half an orange!
As the saying goes, "A woman follows her husband wherever he goes, whether he's a chicken or a dog." Since her father chose an alcoholic husband for her, Huani could only accept her fate. What else could she do? Who could she blame but herself for not doing good deeds in her past life, which resulted in her being born a woman in this life! Although Huani was uneducated, she knew about the Three Cardinal Guides and Five Constant Virtues, and that women should respect their parents-in-law and serve their husbands.
Since her husband liked to drink, no matter how poor the family was, she had to try her best to prepare some dishes to accompany his drinking, so that his body would not continue to wither away like this: "Husband, you can't drink like this," Hua Ni said with heartache as she saw the drunkard chewing a scallion and taking a big gulp of wine. "Wine and scallions are both heat-generating things. If you add heat on heat, you will damage your stomach and intestines. Don't drink anymore. Let me cut off this pig's ear for you, and then you can drink it with your wine!"
The drunkard husband drank happily when there were no dishes to accompany his wine. Who knew that his virtuous wife would prepare some dishes to accompany his wine? He hadn't heard of any illness all year. I have deep respect for him. At this point, Zhou Langzhong cupped his hands and then said in a conciliatory tone: "Old lady's spirit, I, I..." Master Ke drew his sword and pressed it fiercely against Xu's neck: "Cutting off your head is as easy as killing a chicken. As long as I state in the materials I submit that you are not focused on your work, everything will be settled, understand?" Xu
's sobs abruptly ceased. Master Ke's words were not boastful or exaggerated. Not long ago, Xu, who had always watched from the window, had witnessed Master Ke kill a prisoner who refused to do hard labor—as easily as killing a chicken. Xu was certain that Master Ke meant what he said. To survive, to be reunited with her lover, Xu had to stop weeping and bury her sorrow deep in her heart. Seeing that Xu had stopped crying and making a fuss, Master Ke sheathed his sword with a clang and sat down in front of her. "Alas," he said, "it's truly baffling. What is it about him that you're so attached to? Don't I deserve your true affection? Tell me," Master Ke said, lifting Xu's chin, "do you still miss him?"
"No!"
"Would you be willing to be my concubine?"
"Yes!" "
Hmph," Master Ke shoved Xu away, "It's all fucking lies, empty lies to appease people, ah," since he could never win Xu's true feelings, but her body was at his fingertips, Master Ke's lust would rise whenever he saw Xu's alluring figure. As he loosened Xu's belt, he sincerely sighed, "Your heart, I will never, ever have, only this is real!" "
So, Master Ke embraced Madam Xu, and in the dim candlelight, they began to groan and moan. Madam Xu, with her eyes tightly closed, reluctantly accepted Master Ke's thrusts. Her beautiful body rose and fell with the flickering candlelight, her shadow reflected on the wall, the swaying curtains. Master Ke always had this feeling that behind him, there was a shadow he couldn't shake off, an inescapable shadow: Damn it, Master Ke was certain that shadow was Xu San: You're gone, but your spirit lingers! Alas, it seems your shadow will forever shroud my room, forming an invisible yet incredibly heavy barrier between me and Madam Xu.
" "Master," just as Master Ke was fully enjoying Madam Xu's body, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the establishment. A trusted constable urgently called out to Master Ke: "Master, something terrible has happened! We've caught an assassin!" "
What!" Master Ke exclaimed, jumping off Madam Xu with a thud. He hurriedly threw on his nightgown and rushed out the door. "The assassin! Where is the assassin?"
"Here," a patrolling soldier pushed a man in front of Master Ke from the darkness. "It's him. He sneaked into your residence sometime ago, lurking suspiciously under your window. We've been observing him for a while, and when we saw him climb onto the window, we figured he was about to break in and assassinate you. So we immediately took action and apprehended him. Please, Your Excellency, personally interrogate him!"
"Ah," by the moonlight, Master Ke blinked his dim old eyes and took a closer look. The so-called assassin was none other than Xu San, whom he had just sent away during the day. "Xu San, it's you! You, you damn well, why aren't you going back to your hometown? What are you thinking about in my house?" Master Ke knew better than anyone what Xu San was thinking about. Of course, it was Xu Shi's soul! Hearing Master Ke's rebuke, Xu San pitifully lowered his head, and at the same time, pulled out a bag and handed it to Master Ke. A night breeze blew, and the bag jingled—the sound of silver clinking together. "Master, I don't want this silver anymore, I want my wife!"
"Bastard!" Master Ke cursed, his anger turning into a childish tantrum. "You want it? I'll just refuse! I'll make you angry, I'll make you envious! Guards,"
"Yes, sir,"
"Throw this ungrateful wretch into jail. I'll deal with him tomorrow!"
"Yes, sir,"
the guards pushed Xu San away. Xu San continued to plead, but Master Ke ignored him, angrily returning to his quarters. The night passed without incident.
The next morning, Master Ke, still furious, continued his childish tantrum. "You, Xu San, want a wife, don't you?" Not only will I refuse to give it to you, but I'll also make sure you see her every day, watch how your wife serves me, embarrass you, and break your heart. So, Master Ke ordered his men to beat Xu San, deliberately assigning him to menial tasks in the quarters, and forbidding Xu Shi from leaving the bedroom, threatening immediate execution if he did.
Every morning after breakfast, Xu San, anticipating Master Ke's court session, would stop his work and stand blankly at the door of Master Ke's residence, his eyes fixed on the window. Xu Shi, meanwhile, would lift the curtain and gaze silently at the man, their eyes communicating and sharing their feelings.
The trusted constables had already informed Master Ke of this situation. Unlike usual, Master Ke didn't fly into a rage or hurl a curse. After closing the court, he quickly wrote out invitations and sent them out: it turned out Master Ke was celebrating his sixtieth birthday and was hosting a banquet.
It was the sixtieth birthday of Master Ke, and everyone wanted to offer their congratulations. During the banquet, amidst the clinking of glasses and the exchange of toasts, Master Ke noticed Xu San and his servants running around, sweating profusely, carrying trays. He chuckled coldly, gave a signal to his men, and a trusted servant immediately bowed and whispered in his ear, "What are your orders, Master?"
"Heh heh," Master Ke said mysteriously, "Summon Xu Shi. I want to have a few drinks with her!"
"Yes,
sir," the servants replied, and Xu Shi quickly appeared at the table, bumping right into Xu San. A murmur rippled through the crowd, everyone casting strange glances at the loving couple forcibly separated by Master Ke. Seeing this, Master Ke slammed his hand on the table. Xu Shi hurriedly dodged Xu San, who, understanding the situation, slipped out of the banquet hall carrying an empty tray. Under everyone's watchful eyes, Xu Shi awkwardly walked towards Master Ke. Master Ke chuckled coldly again and gestured for Xu Shi to sit beside him. At this moment, Xu San returned to the restaurant, carrying a plate full of dishes, but his eyes were fixed on Xu Shi beside Master Ke. Seeing this, Master Ke pulled Xu Shi into his arms and, in front of everyone, openly kissed and kissed Xu Shi's flushed face: "My dear—you," But seeing Master Ke embracing Xu Shi and making all sorts of frivolous gestures as if no one else was around, everyone saw it and knew in their hearts that Master Ke was doing this on purpose for Xu San's benefit. "Ah," Master Ke even put his hand into Xu Shi's breasts and began to caress them wantonly: "What plump breasts, so pleasing to the touch, the more you touch them, the more you want to touch them, hehe,"
"Mmm," Xu Shi nestled in Master Ke's arms, feeling ashamed, and closed her eyes in embarrassment. While touching and nibbling at the food, Master Ke asked, "Do you love me?"
"Yes!"
Xu San watched, his heart bleeding. His hands, holding the plate, trembled. Seeing his beloved being so wantonly flirted with, Xu San wanted nothing more than to swing the plate and mercilessly smash it at his rival, Master Ke. Master Ke didn't care at all. He casually picked up a wine glass and shoved it into Xu Shi's hand: "Hehe, since you love me, please drink a toast together, hehe."
"Yes, Master, please," Xu Shi took the glass, and before she could clink glasses with her master, she tilted her head back and gulped it down. The spiciness made her mouth contort, and tears streamed down her face. As her master tilted his head back to drink, Xu Shi suddenly closed her eyes and glanced at Xu San across the table with an extremely complicated expression.
"Ah, fine wine!" Master Ke put down his empty wine glass, smacked his thick lips, put one arm around Madam Xu's fair neck
, and pointed at Xu San across the table with the other: "Tell me the truth, do you still love him?" "This," Madam Xu was speechless, not knowing how to answer: "This, this," Madam Xu stammered for a long time, then suddenly raised her face, mustered her courage, and said sincerely: "Love—!"
"Wow—," Madam Xu's words shocked everyone present, and all eyes turned to Master Ke, wondering how the embarrassed official would deal with this concubine who had never changed her mind. Master Ke put down his wine cup, glanced around, and then stared intently at Xu San. Xu Shi suddenly became timid: "Master, I misspoke, I, I..."
"No," Master Ke slowly stood up: "You didn't misspoke, you spoke the truth. Alas," Master Ke was already somewhat drunk, and after Xu Shi's mockery, he gradually realized something. The drunkard stammered, "As the ancients said: 'Better to tear down a grave than break up a marriage.' A forced marriage is never sweet. Since Xu Shi still cherishes her original husband, what have I done to interfere?"
"Master is right," everyone praised: "Master, you truly deserve to be a high-ranking official from the capital. Hearing your words is like gaining ten years' worth of knowledge!"
"Therefore," Master Ke, flattered by the crowd, said, "Guards,"
"Yes, sir,"
"Prepare the horses and send Xu San and Xu Shi back to their hometown!"
"Master, this," the guards were bewildered: "Is Master serious?"
"Who's joking with you?"
"Thank you, sir!"
Xu Shi knelt down at Master Ke's feet with a thud. Seeing this, Xu San placed the tray on the table, walked around it, and knelt before Master Ke, also kneeling with gratitude: "Thank you, sir!"
"Sigh," Master Ke waved his hand, his words making everyone laugh: "Before I regain my senses, you two young lovers should hurry and leave this place, go home and live a good life!"
[The author of the "Women's Manual" says]
A weak woman, implicated by her husband's crime, was forced into hard labor on a remote border. Not only did she maintain an optimistic and positive attitude, but she also refused to curry favor with the powerful or flatter officials, and she did not despise her incompetent husband. Although she submitted to an official, she still longed for her husband. Her loyalty is truly admirable. In real life, let alone a husband imprisoned for a crime, often a wife will simply leave because her husband is incompetent and cannot earn money!

The Noblewoman

's "One Hundred Women's Records"
( Section Nine)
Hairpin Phoenix? I love my cousin. Red cheeks, white hands, a graceful figure like a willow. Spring breeze green, beautiful and charming, my heart's desire, my mouth begging. Touch, touch, touch! Empty longing, a wife, poor family, ugly appearance, a white swan fallen into a cesspool. The old friend is gone, but the old feelings are hard to let go. Shock, shock, shock! The first time the mischievous devil wanted to be the little son-in-law, the great beauty did not want to be Tang Huixian. My cousin has just grown up, with a beautiful face and a light body. She passed the imperial examination a year ahead of schedule, her talent and beauty captivating the whole building.

My older cousin, Mao Mao, is exceptionally beautiful, really. I haven't had a drink today, and my head is perfectly clear. Her beauty isn't just my boast; it's universally acknowledged in the entire dormitory. While I was still a snotty-nosed, mischievous kid running around the dorm, Mao Mao had already blossomed into a tall, fair-skinned, and graceful young woman. She attended the prestigious Provincial Experimental High School. Every day after school, when she walked into the dormitory courtyard and saw me covered in dirt and mud, she would furrow her brow and grumble, "Look at you! You look terrible! Come on, let's go home, I'll wash you up!"
While muttering to herself, she would reach out her slender white hand and, mimicking her aunt's mannerisms, pinch my ear like a little adult. Gazing at my cousin's slender waist and swaying, full hips, I feigned pain, yelping and screaming, while raising the mud in my hand high and hurling it hard onto the cement floor. With a crisp "smack," mud exploded everywhere, splattering onto my cousin's shapely, heaving chest. Startled, she immediately released her grip, letting out a shriek, and without even bothering to brush the mud off herself, she hopped and skipped away.
My pretty older cousin was my pride, and teasing the delicate, soft-spoken beauty was my greatest joy. Having had my fill of mud bubbles and marbles, I then caught a homeless stray kitten huddled in the radiator drain in the corridor.

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